Chocolate for Two
Authors: Maria Murnane
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
Text copyright © 2012 Maria Murnane
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Amazon Publishing
PO Box 400818
Las Vegas, NV 89140
ISBN-13: 9781611099119
ISBN-10: 1611099110
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012919211
To Alex Carr, Waverly’s best friend of all
prologue
I shot straight up in bed.
My hands were sweating.
My pulse was racing.
When I realized where I was, I pressed my palms hard against my eyes and forehead.
Was it just a dream?
After a few moments I regained control of my breathing, then removed my hands from my eyes and slowly looked to my left.
The side of the bed where Jake had spent so many nights keeping me warm was empty.
Dazed, I turned my head the other way and squinted at the clock on the nightstand.
It was 5:21 a.m.
Everything was dark except for the soft glow of the sun rising outside my bedroom window.
I put my hands on my temples.
What?
My brain flooded with fresh memories.
The walk in the park…
The ring of trees…
The unexpected question that made me laugh and cry at the same time.
Huh?
I blinked a few times.
Did none of that happen?
I slowly lowered my hands and gazed at my left hand.
It was bare.
Bare?
Was it really just a dream?
I’d never had such a vivid dream.
I’d never had a dream that had left me so utterly confused.
Still half-asleep, I pulled the covers to one side and swung my legs onto the hardwood floor. I wiggled my feet into a pair of slippers and shuffled into the kitchen.
I opened the cupboard and reached for a glass, then held it under the faucet until it was nearly full. I downed the water in a few gulps and slogged back toward the bedroom. Dream or no dream, I was determined to get a few more hours of sleep.
I was three feet from my bed when my brain finally kicked into gear.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
It wasn’t a dream.
I turned around and sprinted into the living room. I skidded to a halt in front of the bookcase, then reached for the top shelf. I carefully pulled down an antique wooden box with an image of a lush green forest glazed on the lid. The box was pretty much the only thing I’d inherited from my mother. Inside I’d kept the few photos I had of her, including one of her smiling in her wedding dress and one of her and my dad holding me as a newborn at the hospital.
She died just a couple years later.
I smoothed my hand over the top of the box, then carefully opened the lid.
The moment I saw it, I felt tears welling up.
I smiled and exhaled.
It wasn’t a dream.
Tucked neatly beside the photos was another box.
A small box.
A velvet box.
A ring box.
I reached for it, then slowly opened the lid. Inside was a diamond ring.
I felt my cheeks flush with heat.
It’s real.
I’m engaged.
I gently slid the ring onto my finger and held up my hand in the soft morning light.
When I woke up for real a few hours later, I half skipped, half floated into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. As I waited for it to brew, I gazed at my ring again, then slipped into a happy daydream to replay the day before in my head like a movie…
“Keep walking,” Jake said.
“Where are we going?” Dry leaves crackled under my flip-flops.
“Shhh…just keep walking straight ahead…you’ll see.” He kept his hand on the small of my back and nudged me forward. The cool breeze provided a welcome relief from New York City’s relentless summer heat.
I coughed and stopped walking. “I’ll
see
? Given that I’m wearing a blindfold, that seems unlikely.”
He laughed. “I bet I could offer you a million dollars to stay quiet for five minutes, and you wouldn’t be able to do it. Maybe even two million.”
I didn’t reply. I just kept walking.
“Am I wrong?” he asked.
I stayed silent.
“You know I’m right. It’s killing you not to speak right now.”
I bit my lip.
Then I caved.
“I could do it.” I half muttered, half coughed the words.
He laughed again. “I think I’ve just proved my point. Okay, stop walking. We’re here.” He placed his hands gently on my shoulders and turned me to the right.
“We’re
where
?”
“We’re
here
. Let me help you with that.” He removed my blindfold, and I blinked a few times. As the light flooded into my eyes, my surroundings began to take shape.
We were standing in a secluded dell loosely framed by a bright circle of flowering dogwood trees, the grass warm and lush beneath our feet. It was a Saturday afternoon in July, so I knew the park must be packed, but somehow Jake had found a private nook right in the heart of it.
“Are you sure we’re in
Central Park
? The crazy-crowded one in the middle of
New York City
?” I peered up at the buildings dotting the familiar Manhattan skyline beyond the pink-flowering tree branches.
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” As if on cue, a few birds chirped overhead.
“But where is everybody?”
He took off his backpack and removed a blanket. “I came across this spot when I was walking through the park a few weeks ago, and I thought it looked like the ideal place for a picnic. A pretty sweet discovery, don’t you think?” He shook out the blanket and laid it on the grass.
I smiled. “It’s gorgeous, Jake. Magical, even. I didn’t think privacy was possible in Central Park
ever
, much less on a Saturday in the dog days of summer.”
He handed me a deli sandwich and a bottle of water, then looked up at the sky. “I thought of you as soon as I saw it. Makes me feel like we’re on a movie set.”
I pointed at him. “Try to remember that when winter hits. You might be cursing me then.”
“Will do.” Jake had moved from Atlanta about six months earlier to take a job as head physical therapist for the Brooklyn Nets…and to be closer to me.
Sigh
. I still couldn’t believe my luck. Not only did he make me laugh, but he always knew where I’d left my phone and never forgot to order my coffee with extra cream and sugar. It didn’t hurt that he was make-me-swoon handsome to boot. Even after all this time, I still found myself feeling a little giddy when I looked at him.
I unwrapped my sandwich, which I knew would be carved turkey and Swiss on Dutch crunch with no pickles and extra honey mustard, my favorite. Jake always remembered my favorite everything. “Don’t worry. If you get too cold when it starts to snow,
I’ll
keep you warm.” I gave him a playful smile.
I expected him to tease me back, but he didn’t, so I shrugged and took a huge bite of my sandwich.
“Shelter, food, and water,” he said as I chomped.
I looked over at him, my mouth full.
“Hmfph?”
“Shelter, food, and water.” He gestured to the trees framing our private glade, then at the picnic spread before us and the water bottle in his hand. “That’s all you need to survive in the world, right? Isn’t that what they always taught us when we were kids?”
I squinted at him as I swallowed. “Come again?”
He shrugged. “Just thinking back to my Boy Scout days. It was all so simple when we were kids, wasn’t it?”
“Tell me about it. I remember being absolutely
consumed
the summer before my sophomore year in high school with—I
kid you not—whether or not to grow out my bangs. My
bangs
. Please.”
He leaned over and brushed a loose strand of hair out of my eyes. “It’s not enough, you know.”
I smoothed my ponytail with my hand. “Not enough? You think I should grow it longer?”
He laughed. “I’m not talking about your hair. I’m talking about food and water and shelter. It’s not enough to get you through life.”
“It’s not?” I took another bite of my sandwich.
When did he get so philosophical?
It wasn’t like him to be so serious.
He started picking at the grass, which I’d never seen him do.
Then he looked at me.
“You know how everyone says that if you want to get married, you should look for someone you can imagine…spending the rest of your life with?” he asked.
I stopped breathing.
Oh my God.
I stared at my sandwich.
Oh my God.
“But I’ve realized that’s not true. That’s not true at all.”
Oh my…God?
I sat there frozen, my eyes fixated on my turkey and cheese, unable to move.
What is going on?
“Waverly, will you look at me?”
Slowly, slowly, slowly, I set the sandwich down and lifted my head.
“Yes?” I whispered.
